Hero in Distress
by Raptora
Summary: Osoro finds herself conversing with a martial arts student after she is unexpectedly deserted by her cronies. (Osoro's POV)


(Wow it's been a year since my last upload, but well, looks like my preference for unconventional ships still remains. This one can be seen either as platonic or romantic. The title 'Hero in Distress' is meant to apply to both characters. I'm not sure how well this concept actually works, but enjoy!)

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They said they would always have my back no matter the cost, that they would be by my side through thick and thin. It had been a pact, a promise – one that only lowlife scum would break. It only took two months of my absence for my supposed 'cronies' to prove to be just that, scorning and humiliating me upon my return, saying they wanted nothing to do with me. I was no longer part of the gang, let alone their leader. They were the only company I ever had and needed, and by rejecting me, they had taken everything from me.

It was not like I needed them, or at least, that was what I kept telling myself, but I refused to be a nobody – someone they could toss aside simply because they thought it convenient. No, they had to pay for what they did to me, and they shall never forget what it was, because no matter what they did from then on, I was not going to make it easy. That was another promise – a promise I made to myself, and it was probably the promise that had gotten me into such a situation.

The both of us sat on the ground in silence, save for the breathes of exhaustion escaping from our lips. I could feel his gaze on my bruised, battered, and bleeding form, though, I paid no attention it, nor was I the least bit interested in his thoughts. It was not as if he was in a better shape than I was. All I wanted to do was to get back at those traitors, and that resulted in me somehow having a confused, headbanded martial artist on my hands, who, after all the madness, was of course, the first one to speak.

"I- uh… guess I should thank you," he began. "But… why?"

He knew me well. Most of the school did actually, considering all I had done when the gang was still with me. We were notorious and feared by the population. The martial arts students were the only ones who dared to oppose us. It had always been a constant struggle for power between both sides. It just so happened that I saw the boy by himself, obviously outnumbered, ganged up on by four of those traitors, simply for being 'one of those heroes'. I could almost laugh at the irony of this 'hero' thanking me for saving him. It was not like I even cared about him. It just felt good to knock those losers flat. They seemed to have forgotten that none of them could beat me in a fight.

I let out an audible scoff, before replying in a curt, abrasive manner. "Don't think I did it for you, wimp. Let's just say I hate them now, and didn't want to let them have that satisfaction of picking on you."

That was all that had to be said, but was even that too much? It was too late to take anything back, but I had plenty of time to think about the various repercussions of letting someone, especially a martial artist, know that I no longer had my gang with me. It was time I left, before I said anything else I would regret.

"We're done here," I told him as I stood and turned to leave. "Run along back to your little hero friends."

"Would you come with me?"

Those next words that came from behind left me speechless for a good moment, though, in a good way or bad way, I was hardly able to tell at that point.

I turned back to face him, feeling the need to make sure I heard him right. "What?"

His eyes shifted to avoid my gaze – a clear indication of him realizing how awkward he had made the situation with that question. "I mean… you just told me, you don't have your friends anymore. So…"

I laughed out loud at the ridiculous implication. "Me? Friends with the Martial Arts club? Please, everyone hates the 'delinquents', and you people hate us the most!"

He then stood up as well before finally looking at me in the eye, his confidence returning. "You hate them, you said so yourself. Why do you still call yourself one of them?"

I could only turn away and sigh before giving him my simple response. "It doesn't matter what I say. Everyone knows me as a delinquent, and that's how they will always see me."

"Well, you've already won _me_ over, isn't that a good start?" He persisted. "You're right, I don't know if I can convince my friends, but I will try. I know you didn't care about helping me back there, but the point is you did. It meant something to me, so let me do something for you."

There was no getting rid of this one, was there? He knew. He knew that I had been wronged, that I was in trouble, that I was a _victim_. I knew it was true, of course. It hurt to have been betrayed by the ones I trusted the most, it hurt a lot. I could not lie to myself, but that did not mean that I was ready to admit it.

"What makes you think I even need your help?" I asked, in what I felt was a final attempt to preserve my dignity.

To my surprise, he simply nodded respectfully, and flashed me a warm smile. It was no use, he understood how I felt, and what I was trying to do.

He pressed no further, but eventually turned to leave himself, with a few parting words. "My name is Sho. You know where to find me, if you ever need a friend."

Even as he went along his way, his desire to save me still held strong, and it will, till I let him, because that was what being a hero was all about, was it not? I sometimes ponder over what drives them to do what they do – to care, to protect, to defend what is right. Sho… was it? Perhaps it might be my curiosity about that subject that would compel me to speak to him again. When that will be, even I do not know.


End file.
